Evermore
by lindsaymarie119
Summary: I'll never leave you. If we can get through this, we can get through anything. You need to trust me. It can be you and me together, always. We just need to get there.
1. Prologue

Prologue

She lay by the hedge curled up into a ball. Her body ached from the past eighty-four hours. Her leg was bleeding, badly. No matter how much effort she put into healing the wound, it wouldn't close. She had been attacked from behind, left to bleed out. The competition was tough—she had been aware that would be the case. They had prepared her for the dangers. But the betrayal, she was not ready for. She knew the darkness would come for her soon. She had been lying by the hedge for a few hours, her leg slowly becoming more and more numb. She was feeling light headed. She was feeling alone. She was feeling betrayed.

She turned her head to look down the path. No one was coming from the east. The west was behind her. She lifted her head and pushed herself up into a sitting position. With her back against the hedge and her head leaning back, she knew she would be able to at least see anyone coming her direction. She hadn't encountered a soul since the initial attack. But it was often common for competitors to return to see if their victims had truly been eliminated. She would know. She had done the same thing a few hours before.

Her eyes were fuzzy, but her surroundings slowly came into focus. It was nighttime, not quite to the time when the announcements were made but close enough for her to worry. They were precise with that, at least. The competitors were always informed how many were left in play. Death was never an option. They would punish you if a death occurred purposely by a competitor's hand. The word purposely was used loosely. However, seriously injuring a fellow opponent was fair game. And highly praised. Thus, she sat. Normally, or so she had thought, they were prompt with removing the seriously injured from the task. That way, they could be healed quickly and disposed of. But the injury she had inflicted on her opponent was not to the extent hers was. She had paralyzed him from the waist down, yes. But she knew he would be alive at the end of the task. Her own fate was uncertain.

She glanced down at her leg and winced. The cut was deep; her efforts to heal herself had backfired. Her left thigh was now three times the size of her right and there was a lot of blood. Still. She wiped her forehead, undoubtedly smearing blood and dirt over her face. At this point, she had no concern for her appearance. As long as she made it through this task she would be fine. She would sacrifice her leg as long as it meant she could live. There had been rumors surrounding the task about the accidental death in the last tournament. Of course the cause was known, how it had happened was mysterious. It was hushed up. It was not discussed.

She had counted the number of red sparks that had been released the night before. Three. Three red sparks were released into the air. Three champions left. Twenty-one were either permanently injured, dead, or missing. She didn't know. The red sparks didn't differentiate that. She was fairly positive they had never meant it to come to this. But it had. This was why the tournament had been stopped after last time. But it resumed under new ruling. That was the danger of the resumption of the game. It had been altered so severely, it had become a fight for survival. Only that hadn't been made clear before they had been chosen. Or after they had been chosen, either.

She heard a twig snap from the left. She slowly turned her head towards the sound. She was tired. She prayed it was her attacker, either coming back to permanently put her out or to revive her. She didn't know which she preferred. She didn't know if he was still alive. He had carried her through the process. He had made her likable when she knew she wasn't. He had made her desirable when she knew she wasn't. He had made her feel something, like this would be worth it if they could be together at the end. But that was too unimaginable.

The footsteps got progressively louder. Whoever it was was drawing near. A sound from the right made her head turn. Someone else was coming for her. She knew it was the end. She resumed gazing straight ahead, reassuring herself that she had done well throughout the past three days. She was okay with this. Though she'd never see her family again, most likely, she knew that it would be fine. She would be fine. The footsteps from the left became more frantic; they were louder. She closed her eyes, ready to face her attacker. The footsteps stopped. She kept her eyes closed, her breathing even. A voice spoke from her left.

"I didn't think you would still be alive."


	2. Chapter One

**AN: Thanks so much for the reads and reviews! I wrote the prologue and this first chapter at the same time, so I thought I'd upload it shortly after getting the first part up! Chapter two will take me a while longer to write, but I'll work as fast as I can! Enjoy.**

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><p>Chapter One<p>

The Great Hall was crowded when she returned to Hogwarts. Summer vacation had just ended. It was a crisp fall day; the Daily Prophet had reported there had never been a cooler September 1st than this year's. Fall colors had not set in around the castle yet, but it was a gray, cloudy day. What little warmth the sun offered did nothing to warm the carriage ride from the Hogwarts Express up to the castle. Fires had been lit in Ravenclaw's common room and her dormitory had been shockingly hot. So hot that after setting her trunk down and placing her school bag on her bed, she had opened a window. She hoped the other girls didn't mind.

The Great Hall was full; Annabelle Darr thought it might have been a mandatory dinner but she knew the Welcome Back Feast was always full. She strode through the double doors and kept her gaze straight ahead as she wove her way through students reuniting to reach Ravenclaw's table. She sat down, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear, and began to watch the other students mill about. They seemed so cheerful and happy to be back. Annabelle couldn't identify with that feeling. The first years had not arrived yet and she knew that their eyes would be filled with terror. Annabelle, though in her final year, remembered that feeling. She felt like she didn't belong, that Hogwarts had made some sort of mistake. She still felt that way.

She observed the scene while trying to locate her sister. Annabelle had saved her a seat. Students were filing in and beginning to take their places at the long table. A few people had come close to sitting near Annabelle before remembering that they actually did not want to sit there, but at the other end instead. It was a common occurrence. She was used to it. Students circulated rumors about the older Darr girl. None of them were worth repeating. They were all equally nasty and a few were so impressive that Annabelle wished she actually had done the things they talked about. But, she was a good student. She had to be.

She saw her sister enter the room. The Darr sisters looked similar; both had blonde hair, they were both short with sharp facial features. The one difference between the pair was their eyes. Annabelle had their father's muted hazel; her sister their mother's shocking blue. Annabelle was envious of her sister's eyes. She cast her gaze across the table and up to where the professors sat. The boy down the table from her was by himself, reading a book. Annabelle almost felt bad for him, but then she remembered she didn't actually like him that much.

"Sorry, Anna. I was saying hello to people. You could be social, you know," Rosalie Darr commented as she slid into her seat. She was twelve, only in her second year at Hogwarts. The pair was close; after their mother passed away a few years ago, the Darr girls' father removed himself from anything remotely close to parenting. That left Annabelle to raise Rosalie.

"It's fine," Annabelle said coldly, still looking at the boy down the table. She knew that she wasn't the friendliest person, but there was no need for Rosalie to chastise her for it. "I have friends, Rosalie."

"One person is not a friend Annabelle," her sister retorted, before turning away to chat to other people.

Annabelle knew she was right. She just didn't want to give Rose the benefit of knowing she was right. So Annabelle kept quiet, preferring to watch students take their seats than talk to her sister. She turned her attention to finding her one friend. Deacon Hall was the perfect match for Annabelle. Both had single parent families. Both were top students. Both took advantage of breaking rules at the first opportunity. Both were quiet. Both depended solely on the other. Annabelle knew she could count on Deacon to make sure her father got out of bed every day when she couldn't be there. He could count on her to deliver baskets of food to his family when he was away. That's what made them such close friends: proximity. The Hall's lived a few blocks from the Darr house.

The chatter died down as Professor Silverthorne rose to address the students. After the old headmaster died, Hayford Silverthorne had taken the position. As a respected Transfiguration teacher for many years, he was a shoe-in. He had taken his position a few years before Annabelle reached Hogwarts, back when the Ministry was run with a fair eye. Now, the Ministry of Magic and Professor Silverthorne did not get along. The Minister of Magic had been promoted after mysterious circumstances surrounding his superior's death. The majority of the wizarding world believed their new Minister played a part. Regardless, the Ministry of Magic had become corrupted and disorganized. In order to please their new ruler that the majority of the Ministry spent more time enforcing ridiculous laws than actually understanding them and their implications.

"Good evening and welcome back from what I hope was a marvelous summer break! I quite enjoyed my holiday; I received a very nice sweater from one William Weasley. It was quite warm. Thank you. Though next time, please refrain from sending winter clothing during the summer holiday season. I expect your mother found the article of clothing in your trunk. A gift you forgot to give me?" The hall chuckled as Professor Silverthorne turned his attention to a small redheaded child at the Gryffindor table. Rumor had it that William Weasley's great-grandfather was Harry Potter's best friend. Rumor also had it that William Weasley's family grew turnips in their bathtub, so no one believed either rumor.

"We will begin the Sorting shortly, after a small request. We do have important news to address later on in the evening. Therefore, please keep the applause and heckling the new first years down to a minimum. We do not want this evening to last longer than it must!" Silverthorne chuckled to himself. "Let them in!"

The double doors to the Great Hall opened and a string of small, terrified students wandered in. A few were holding hands, a few were crying. The crying students, Annabelle suspected, were the ones who had been told they needed to fight a troll or a dragon. She felt sorry for them; she had been upfront with Rosalie about the Sorting ceremony. She hadn't wanted her younger sibling to be scared. The Sorting Hat sat on its usual stool in front of the high table. Professor Silverthorne stood in front of it, beaming widely. New students always put him in a good mood.

The train of first years stopped just short of the steps leading to the stool. Professor Hollyoake, the Charms professor whom everyone adored, marched to stand next to Professor Silverthorne. She was carrying a scroll with all the new students names. After the Hat's usual song, Hollyoake unrolled her scroll and addressed the students. "When I call your name," she said, her singsong voice resonating around the room. "Please step forward and sit on the stool. I will place the Sorting Hat upon your head. Nothing to be afraid of!" She giggled to herself and looked down at her list of names. "Aarons, Marie!"

A small brunette girl walked cautiously up to the stool and sat down. Annabelle noticed she was shaking. Professor Hollyoake placed the Hat upon her head. After a few moments of deliberation, Aarons, Marie was off to the Hufflepuff table. The Sorting proceeded without anything unusual occurring; Ravenclaw acquired twenty-nine new students.

Professor Silverthorne remained in front of the students until the Sorting Hat had been properly stored. Then he spoke. "Now, I have smelled the feast cooking all day and I'm quite ready to eat. So before our guest announces the news," Silverthorne widened his arms with a smile. "Let us eat!" As he sat down in his chair, the food appeared in the middle of each table in the Great Hall.

Annabelle reached for the pot of corn chowder, but it was snatched before she could help herself to a portion. She looked up; ready to tear the poor student to shreds before realizing Deacon had arrived. Instead, she reached out and took a roll. "Where were you?" she grumbled, taking the pot of soup from his hands after he doled himself out a portion.

"Busy. I got back early and ran an errand. Hi Rosalie," Deacon waved at the younger Darr sister. Rosalie waved back, but neglected to cease her conversation.

"What errand? We run errands together," Annabelle reminded him as she reached for the carved ham.

"Don't worry about it. How's your dad?" Deacon asked, stuffing a spoonful of chowder into his mouth.

"He's fine. He's working. Not a whole lot, but enough." Annabelle didn't want to talk about it. "How's your mom?"

Deacon shrugged. "Don't know. She barely got out of bed."

Annabelle didn't respond. This was a common parenting tactic of Eveline Hall's; if she didn't have to get up and face her problems, there were none. The pair ate the rest of their meal in silence, preferring to simply savor food than discuss anything else. They had seen each other over break. Never at home but in their usual place. Dessert was pumpkin pie and pudding. Annabelle hated both, but she ate it anyway. Deacon helped himself to two slices of pie and let Annabelle take a bite of her own dessert before speaking.

"Rosalie okay?"

Annabelle turned to look at her sister. Rosalie was still engaged in her conversation. They were discussing the cat she had acquired over break, which had recently been christened Marshmallow. "She's doing great. The cat she found was a life saver."

Deacon nodded and took a bite of pie. "Is she happy?"

Annabelle set her fork down. "Are any of us?"

The remainder of dessert was consumed in silence. Their friendship functioned that way; there for a few words, silent when needed. Deacon had often passed as a cousin of the Darr sisters. His hair was also blonde, but a darker shade. He wore glasses, square ones. They shielded his brilliant blue eyes. Annabelle often thought that his eyes were the attracting feature for her. But Annabelle wasn't that superficial. His eyes just reminded her of her mother, that was all. So they were friends, in her mind, because she enjoyed his company. The plates had just been cleared when Professor Silverthorne rose again.

"I hope that meal filled everyone up! I know it filled me!" he said, chuckling and rubbing his belly. "Now, for our news. This is quite big and very exciting. However, I'd like to have someone else introduce to us. May I present Gregorio Greenbelt, Head of the Department of Magical Sports and Games. Mr. Greenbelt?"

A short man rose from the far right end of the table. He was stout, pumpkin shaped, and Deacon was quick to point it out to Annabelle. She giggled quietly before asking, "Did you notice him at the table before now?"

Deacon shook his head. "But I have seen him. He's one of the Ministers new men." After the Minister of Magic was appointed, he rearranged all the departments to incorporate individuals who he deemed adequate. Unfortunately, most of them ended up being men whom were equally as nasty as the Minister.

"Thank you Professor Silverthorne," Gregorio Greenbelt said. His voice was rather squeaky and earned a few giggles from his audience. "Welcome back to school! I know the seven years I spent here at Hogwarts did me well. I hope they function the same for each and every one of you." Greenbelt cleared his throat before moving on. "Now, if you'll pardon me. I need to gather my notes and put on my glasses." Greenbelt wore wire-rimmed circular shaped glasses. They made him look even stouter.

"As I am sure many of you know, and for those who don't, the Triwizard Tournament was discontinued as a magical event after a tragic accident occurred at the most recent revival many years ago. This accident was in no way inflicted because of the Tournament. However, due to the nature of the accident the practice of the Triwizard Tournament was discontinued." Greenbelt cleared his throat again before continuing. "I'd now like to announce that the Triwizard Tournament is back!" Greenbelt looked around expecting a reaction. He didn't get one. Greenbelt's eyebrows creased and he looked around. "Are you all aware of what the Triwizard Tournament is?"

"Yes! But why hasn't it been reinstated before now?" a rather large Hufflepuff boy asked. Annabelle had Charms with him. She disliked him.

Greenbelt looked down at his notes. "Well, we revamped the Tournament so it would be safer. The three tasks will no longer involve the level of danger that was found in the last revival. We have various safety measures put in place. New rules and regulations will also help the safety of our champions. Most importantly, however, the Ministry will be more involved with each task than beforehand. Now, the Minister himself will create and oversee each task. Thus, there will be an extra level of supervision coming from the Ministry. The backseat we had taken at the last Tournament will no longer be the Ministry's approved method. We shall be deeply involved with both the planning and the task itself." Greenbelt looked up at the Hufflepuff boy. "Did that answer your question?"

Annabelle knew it hadn't and saw the Hufflepuff shake his head. He didn't pursue the matter further. Greenbelt looked relieved. He cleared his throat again and continued his speech. "Wonderful! Now, there are new rules in place. Because the Ministry of Magic is now overseeing this event more than the previous times the Tournament has been held, we are altering the age limit. Instead of only witches and wizards of age participating, those students who are second year and above may enter."

There was an outburst of chatter as students turned to each other to discuss the news. The professors looked shocked; this was the first time they had heard this new rule and it was not settling well. Annabelle looked at Deacon. He gazed back at her, his eyes filled with fear. Annabelle knew that Rosalie would never give up the chance to enter her name into something like this. Eternal fame and glory was her dream. It's what she always wanted to achieve no matter how she came about it. Deacon knew it too. Last time, a wizard of age had died. Though the Dark Ages were over, there were still dangers. Annabelle turned to look at her younger sister. Rosalie's eyes were sparkling with the news; Annabelle knew she was going after it. And it would be Annabelle's job to talk her out of it.

Greenbelt cleared his throat again, feebly trying to regain the attention of the room. The chatter didn't stop. Greenbelt tried again, this time still rendering unsuccessful. Professor Silverthorne rose from his chair. He stood silently, waiting for his students to quiet down. The room's decibel level slowly decreased as students began to notice Professor Silverthorne. "Thank you," Silverthorne announced calmly. "Please continue Gregorio."

"Yes," Greenbelt squeaked. "Well. Let's see now." He looked back down at his notes and mumbled the last lines he had just said. "Ah, yes. In addition to a new age limit, the number of champions selected to compete in the Tournament has also been altered. Instead of three champions, one from each participating school, there shall be eight champions from each school for a grand total of twenty-four champions. Two will be selected-"

"Why?" The large Hufflepuff boy stood to confront Greenbelt. "Why would you increase the amount of participants? What is the purpose?"

Greenbelt was put on the spot; he had no concrete answer in his notes. That was apparent to Annabelle. "Well, we'd like to… Er. It's a chance to… Increase international magical relations," Greenbelt said, looking pleased with his answer.

The Hufflepuff boy frowned. "So you'll give us more competition in hopes that we'll become more friendly with the students we're trying to beat?"

Greenbelt smiled, "Yes. Now as I was saying, two champions will be selected from each house. One male, one female. The two other participating schools, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, have agreed to also enter four females and four males ranging in the same age as our champions from Hogwarts." He shifted his notes around before continuing. Annabelle knew Greenbelt was trying to deflect any more questions from his audience. Get in, give information, leave. A typical Ministry tactic.

"There will still be three tasks. The first is to take place in November. The second in March. The third in May. Term will end shortly after the third task is complete. Champions are excused from finals. The champions will be selected mid-October. Hogwarts will be hosting this revival. Thank you." Greenbelt gathered his notes and turned back to the professor's table. The chatter between the students began again.

"Want to enter, Annabelle?" Deacon said, grinning. "It'd be quite the challenge for you."

Annabelle grimaced, "He didn't say how we enter."

Deacon frowned. "Ask."

She stood to ask Gregorio Greenbelt how one entered the Triwizard Tournament when the boy down the table she had noticed earlier rose. "Excuse me sir?" the boy asked, calmly but clearly. His voice rung through the whole Hall.

Greenbelt turned, his face still flushed. Annabelle watched as the boy down the table gazed directly at Greenbelt, his sight unfaltering. "Sir, you didn't tell us how we enter our names to become champions."

Greenbelt turned a brighter shade of red. "My dear boy, did I forget that detail?"

The boy down the table nodded his head. "Yes, sir. You did."

"My mistake. Every student from second year on in each house is entered. The Triwizard Tournament is a mandatory entry. If you are chosen, you must fight. There is no alternative. The Ministry of Magic is demanding participation. If the Goblet of Fire chooses you as a champion, you must accept the consequences of the Tournament. Whatever the outcome may be. Life or death." Greenbelt turned back around to take his seat at the far right of the professor's table.


End file.
